At Midnight
by termiNaylor
Summary: I wrote this a while ago, after I found out Luke Roberts was leaving Holby City. This is for all you dedicated Jac and Joseph fans out there  like me!
1. Chapter 1

Jac Naylor stood and waited for her coffee to percolate. She had lost count of how many mugs she had consumed in one day; it probably wasn't healthy but she didn't really care. Caffeine was her stimulant, her diesel. A fuel essential in keeping her alert during _such_ a gruelling night shift. She mulled over the night's events so far in her head: first there was the patient with chronic liver disease that refused to sign the consent form; then there was the delay of test results from toxicology; a complication in surgery and, to make matters worse, Hanssen seemed to be stalking her. The towering, self-assured Swedish fiend who obviously felt it necessary, not to mention highly amusing, to spy on her every second of the day, assessing her progress as the new Locum Consultant on Keller Ward. The Ice Maiden was on the brink of exploding, likely to lash out at the next person that got in her way.

All of a sudden the door banged open and Jac, awoken from her reverie, looked up irritably at the midnight trespasser.

He lingered in the doorway for a short while, then slowly walked in and closed the door carefully behind him. Glinting, his cobalt blue eyes met hers briefly and then, in his typically awkward fashion, looked away again. There was something not quite right about the look he gave her; a look of defeat perhaps, of melancholy. This wasn't the Joseph Byrne she once knew. Okay he was a bit of a doormat, a bit _OCDC _as she had once described him, but he always used to have a spring in his step when he was with her. This seemed to have now evaporated completely.

**"I need to speak to you"** he murmured solemnly.

Jac, who was leaning casually against the work surface in the Darwin staff room kitchen, stood up straight, nonplussed at his grave tone of voice. A strange sensation of butterflies erupted in her stomach. **"That sounds ominous"**, she replied nonchalantly, trying with all of her might to conceal her concern. She turned back to the coffee machine and poured a mug of the steaming, brown liquid and then returned to face her former lover, hugging the mug to her chest. **"So Joseph, what do you have to tell me so urgently?"**

A few seconds silence.

**"I'm leaving"**

Only two words surfaced from his lips. _Only two words_. Yet, these two words cut through her like the sharpest knife, instilling fear and despair into every inch of Jac Naylor's being.


	2. Chapter 2

He knew what he had to do. He had known for weeks but couldn't admit it to himself, let alone anyone else. Yet, strangely enough, it was Joseph Byrne's ex-wife's recent public meltdown that had brought him to his senses; her frenzied actions had made him realise that he didn't belong in her world anymore. He didn't even _want_ to. The thought of escaping from this suffocating nightmare, that had shrouded him daily for nearly a year, momentarily soothed his tortured soul. It had to be done, for _his_ sanity at least.

It was midnight. After hovering outside the staffroom apprehensively for a delayed period of time, he hurriedly walked in, the door banging behind him, his entrance acknowledged only by the sharp glance of the slim woman who was waiting inside. Despite her obvious fatigue, Jac Naylor radiated beauty. She always had done: her long, silky mane of golden hair was tied back into an effortless ponytail with shorter strands hanging loosely to frame her face; her porcelain-like features, well defined by her high cheekbones, were as alluring as ever and her stunning bottle green eyes twinkled under the dim lighting. Realising that he was staring, the dark, brooding surgeon quickly glanced away and shuffled his feet uncomfortably.

He _had_ to tell her. It was time.

**"I need to speak to you"**

**"That sounds ominous"** Bemused, Joseph watched as the woman he once loved turned away from him, busying herself with her coffee, seemingly ignoring everything he had said. _She didn't seem to care. _Turning around to face him once more, mug in hand, she replied in an everyday tone of voice-**"So Joseph, what do you have to tell me so urgently?"**

A few seconds silence.

**"I'm leaving"** were the only two words he could muster.

Pain and sorrow suddenly filled Jac Naylor's eyes and it was this expression-which he had only seen once before in the contaminated theatre years ago- that broke his heart into a million tiny pieces.


	3. Chapter 3

**"I thought you'd _finally_ begun to grow a full set of vertebrae, you know Joseph"** Jac Naylor retaliated fiercely, furious at herself for revealing any sign of weakness in her eyes. **"Running away from your problems is nothing but cowardice; I thought _you_ were smart enough to realise that. What will you do when your son is born eh? Leave Faye 'psycho' Morton to bring him up herself? Like _that_ will do the poor kid any good. I have no sympathy whatsoever for parents that abandon their children... _you_ should know that Joseph, of all bloody people"**

The ire that had been bubbling up inside her all night was finally surfacing, and Joseph Byrne was on the receiving end of it; there was nothing he could say or do to console her. This time, _he_ had caused the hurt. Not the other way around.

**"Oh shut up Jac, like _you_ care about childcare issues. You don't have a shred of compassion for Faye or our baby, just admit it"** Joseph retorted defensively, aggressively; keen to show to her that he wasn't the spineless man she once knew him to be. **"Anyway, it has been decided between Faye and I that I will take our away son with me, happy now?"**

**"Oh yes, that makes everything better. Fan-_bloody_-tastic".** The venom in her response even startled Jac. Slumping into one of the chairs in front of her, she turned away from him despondently and silence ensued for what seemed like a lifetime. **"And what about us, eh? Do I mean nothing to you?...After everything that's happened between us?"** she finally whispered, barely audible.

This knocked him for six. With his heart thumping erratically, his hands, shoved deep inside his pockets, shaking uncontrollably and a cold sweat erupting across his brow, Joseph Byrne swivelled towards his surprisingly fragile nemesis; his arch enemy; his past lover...his _best friend_. He knew what he was about to say would hurt her, like he had never hurt her before. It would even hurt _him_. However, Joseph needed closure and this was the only way of achieving it. He opened his mouth, yet, after a few seconds of gawping, closed it again. Then, after taking a long, deep breath, gathering all of the courage he could find within himself, he opened his mouth for the second time and a string of toxic words cascaded from his lips.

**"Nothing has changed, I've told you before. You manipulate. You scheme. Your ruthless ambition ruins the lives of anybody that gets in your way. You're tainted, Jac. You mean absolutely _nothing_ to me."**

_Nothing. _

_Lies._ The woman sat in front of him was his _whole_ world, but he couldn't let her know that. He wouldn't. That would change things, _everything_. With all the inner strength he could muster, Joseph Byrne turned to the door reluctantly and departed, leaving Jac helplessly sat there on her own, tears welling up in both of their eyes.

_**If you don't suffer, you don't feel alive.**_


	4. Chapter 4

Jac could feel her lips quivering, trembling; with all of her might she tried to pull herself together, but to no avail. Large, salty tears flowed freely down her cheekbones, smudging the makeup she had perfectly reapplied an hour before, and, shaking violently in her chair, she pulled her legs up against her chest protectively. All of the hurt that she had locked away at the back of her mind for many years came flooding back in the space of a few minutes. It was overwhelming, _devastating_. Jac Naylor's usually cool composure had evaporated at the blink of an eye, and this was completely down to one man; one man and his poisonous, yet painstakingly accurate, words. She _was '_tainted', he was right. She was a repellent force that had pushed Joseph to the brink, compelling him to escape from Holby. To escape from _her_. _Her_ destructive world.

**"You mean absolutely nothing to me"**

These were the words that constantly echoed at the front of her mind, taunting her; torturing her very soul.

**"I meant everything to you...once"**, she whispered, between sobs.

His locker door banged shut and he thrust its contents hurriedly into a large backpack: various medical journals; newspaper articles; a change of clothes; aftershave; a spare coffee mug...a packet of the _good_ _biscuits_. Joseph Byrne took a long, shuddering breath, willing to compose himself. He hadn't cried for _such_ a long time and this sudden breakdown terrified him; it was Jac, she had this affect on him. She always had. A tumultuous wave of emotion overwhelmed him once more so he hastily turned on the radio, turning the volume right up, needing his attention to be diverted from what had just happened in the staffroom.

The last verse of a Billy Joel song was playing on Radio Two.

_**She is frequently kind  
>And she's suddenly cruel<br>She can do as she pleases  
>She's nobody's fool<br>And she can't be convicted She's earned her degree  
>And the most she will do<br>Is throw shadows at you  
>But she's always a woman to me<strong>**  
><strong>_

**"How...apt**", muttered Joseph sarcastically, a feeble smile threatening to break across his face.

He picked up his backpack and walked purposefully to the door, heading to the car park. He hadn't told anybody about his departure because he didn't want the fuss; he just wanted to leave without a trace of him ever working there...ever existing. Mark Williams, the CEO, was the only person in the know, and now, of course... Jac.

_Jac._

Swallowing hard to compose himself, his thoughts once again drifted to the sadness that, only a few minutes ago, had spread so swiftly across Jac Naylor's usually hardened features, after he had uttered those awful, awful words. Pausing slightly, he wondered for the umpteenth time if he had made the right decision. The _pain_ in her eyes. _The heartbreak. _What was he doing? Then, however, he thought of his unborn child, his son, and everything became clear again. His child was his priority, _not_ Jac Naylor. This was for the best, she had to accept that. She was strong enough to accept that, she _had to_ be. And so, with one last look around the room, he departed, closing the door silently behind him.


	5. Chapter 5

Aware of approaching footsteps, Jac wiped her eyes on the back of her sleeve hurriedly and breathed deeply, composing herself. She couldn't let anybody in the hospital see her in such a pathetic state; she was _The_ Jac Naylor, the Ice Maiden, the woman who was chiselled from a block of ice at birth. If she let her frosty facade slip now, the years spent earning her reputation as Queen Bitch would be worthless; her power diminished, her name dragged through the dirt. She was still Jac Naylor and nothing..._nobody_ would change that. Not even Joseph Byrne. Why did she let him have this effect on her, did she have no shame, no self respect?

Her eyes were now dry and, all of a sudden, fury surged through her veins, through her whole body, from the top of her head to the tips of her fingers; a destructive force. She was on the edge.

The door was pushed open. **"Jac! There you are, I wondered where my partner in crime had got to. You haven't been on the ward for at least an hour and a half, I thought you ha..."** A pause. **"Jac...? What's happened?"** The cheer in Sacha Levy's voice ebbed away as he looked at Jac Naylor's mascara stained face, her dishevelled hair...her ghost like expression, and the sparkle in his eyes was instantly replaced with only concern for his friend.

**"What! I'm fine. I just had something to deal with. That's all. OKAY?"** Jac shot Sacha a dirty look, her piercing gaze daring him to come any closer, to ask any more questions.

Her colleague, nonetheless, was unperturbed by her aggression. **"You've been crying. Tell me, Jac. I can help...do you want to hug it out? I know you _love_ a good squeeze from the Levy"**, a cheeky smile darted across his face, willing his good humour to rub off on the distressed woman standing in front of him.

**"Oh, will you just take your crap jokes and FU..."**

**"JAC!"**

**"WHAT! I'M NOT IN THE MOOD TO BE TALKING TO YOU, DON'T YOU GET IT? IS YOUR PEA SIZED BRAIN INCAPABLE OF COMPREHENDING THAT. YOU'RE JUST A FAT, STUPID, IRRITATING, HALFWIT ...AND...AND..."**

Jac didn't finish her sentence because the tears had surfaced once again and she couldn't string out a sentence without stumbling on her words. Yet, once again enraged by her obvious vulnerability, she struck out at the table situated in the centre of the staffroom, swiping everything on its surface to the floor: patient files; pens; two plates and her coffee mug, the sound of shattered porcelain ricocheting off the walls. She didn't even care anymore. It was over. _Everything_.

Sacha just stood and observed, stunned, as Jac made her way to the window and watched silently as Joseph Byrne, still dressed in his dark blue scrubs, walked out of the hospital and across the car park.


	6. Chapter 6

Leaning against his car door, Joseph Byrne's thoughts quickly returned to the pained expression that had momentarily flickered in her eyes, her beautiful eyes, only a short while ago. He looked up at the night's sky dejectedly, pensively, and inwardly mused about how things could have been different; for they should have been _so_ different. This was not how it should have happened at all. He knew in his heart that, even though he couldn't seem to admit it to himself just yet, that Jac Naylor was still the love of his life. She always had been and she always would be. He understood now that, no matter where he escapes to, and no matter how hard he tries to erase her from his tortured soul, the memory of them together would still be the overriding force, compelling him to think of her: her beauty, her charm, her dry wit, her intelligence, her brutal honesty; these were all factors that had drawn him to her from the very start. The very moment he saw her walk casually through the hospital doors in her motorcycle gear, oozing confidence. A sexy sophistication.

But she had _betrayed_ him; she had committed the unthinkable crime of sleeping with his father and surely, this could _never_ be atoned for. He couldn't even bare to think about it. _His_ Jac. _His_ girl. The woman he had loved unconditionally had brandished her finest, sharpest knife and stabbed him so viciously, so heartlessly, in the back, just to satisfy her raging ambition. _Could_ this be atoned for? After all of these years...?

He had a son. He had responsibilities now. He had made the right decision.

But had he? This thought lingered tentatively at the back of his mind.

Such conflicting emotions were driving him insane, and the sudden opening of the heavens, causing bucketfuls of rain to fall, did nothing to assuage the darkness of his mood. A seething anger unexpectedly erupted inside him, and he punched the roof of his car...and again, and again, until the pain was too much to bear. Why did these women have such an affect on him? First Jac and her manipulation, and then Faye and her lies, her crocodile tears, her adulterous intentions. Yet, surprisingly, the pain that Faye had caused him, at this very minute, seemed a lot more than Jac had ever caused him. Maybe time was a healer, or maybe Jac was just _worth_ the suffering. They were compatible after all.

That's it. He loved her. He, Joseph Byrne, _loved_ Jac Naylor.

The rain continued to fall, faster, heavier, and Joseph Byrne swivelled around to face the hospital entrance. _A figure._ He squinted in the darkness, aghast, trying to identify the person who was standing there on the spot, a few yards away from him, looking directly at him.

**Jac.**

His heart leapt to his mouth as she began to slowly walk towards him.


	7. Chapter 7

Jac knew what she was going to do the moment she saw Joseph Byrne pack away his belongings into the boot of his car. She couldn't let this go, not yet anyway. Desperately, she turned around and dashed past a gawping Sacha, her golden hair tumbling to her shoulders, and out of the door with a thud. Racing across Keller Ward, she was completely oblivious to her chaotic surroundings until the drawling and only too familiar voice of her Swedish rival forced her to a halt; a sickening feeling of trepidation lurched in her stomach, she couldn't be delayed. Not now. There was too little time, _too much_ at stake.

If Henrik Hanssen had been paying absolute attention, he would have noticed the panicked expression that flit so rapidly across her striking features, just milliseconds before. However, the only thing that defined her features now was an air of haughtiness; a mock expression that Jac Naylor had mastered many years ago to masquerade her inner feelings, an expression that she was now accustomed to.

**"Ah, Ms. Naylor. _There_ you are. You were expected in theatre twenty minutes ago"** A statement drenched in sarcasm, his speciality.

Rolling her eyes characteristically, Jac uttered a hurried, breathless reply **"Yes Mr Hanssen, but I have a matter of _national importance_ to be dealing with right this minute. It's a consultant's emergency..."** And, with no further explanation, Jac sped away again towards the lift, leaving Hanssen standing there, mildly perplexed at her outlandish behaviour. He was _not_ a man to be ignored.

_Doors opening. _The voice of the lift echoed monotonously through the Hospital entrance.

Mentally storing all of the Hanssen-related insults she was able to conjure in the time spent standing in the lift, Jac burst through the doors in a frenzy, past the empty cafeteria and through the automatic doors into the car park. Into the pouring rain.

He was still there. Leaning against his car door, Joseph Byrne seemed to be in a state of reflection. Jac's heart was now somersaulting; it was thudding so hard that it felt like it would escape her chest at any moment. She wasn't used to these feelings at all. With her maroon scrubs nearly drenched through with rain, and her adrenaline pumping, all she could do was stand there and wait.

It felt like an eternity, but Jac Naylor had only spent a few minutes standing there, watching. She didn't really know what she was doing anymore. What would she say to him? A torrent of emotion suddenly overwhelmed her, resulting in any coherent thought she may have possessed minutes before being flung, once again, into disarray. It seemed hopeless. Yet, as if on cue, Joseph Byrne turned around to face her and, despite the blanket of darkness that shrouded them both, his gaze met Jac's at once, seemingly, alluringly, beckoning her forward.

And that's what she did, she walked towards him.

Her pace quickened, faster and faster, until she was positioned a ruler's width away from her handsome nemesis. He just stood there, stunned; Jac Naylor's natural beauty, alongside the fiery intent in her wide green eyes, caught Joseph off guard and he took a long, shuddering breath, his eyes refusing to stray from hers. Not for one second did his eyes stray from hers. Finally, the long, tormenting silence was broken and Jac whispered the words: **"I just needed to see you. I needed to do this"**. The tone of her voice was silky soft and Joseph was mesmerised.

However, the powerful slap across his face that ensued awoke him immediately from his dream like state.


	8. Chapter 8

Joseph didn't react in the way that Jac had expected, the way she had hoped. She needed him to retaliate, to vent his frustration, to slap her in the face just as hard..._like the good old days_. But no, nothing. He didn't even blink, but merely gazed at her; the steely, yet wounded, look in his eyes penetrated her defences which, once again, crumbled in front of his eyes. Vulnerable Jac Naylor.

**"I really deserved that"**, uttered Joseph, swallowing hard. **"I pushed you away when I needed you the most. I get that now...I was just angry, I didn't know which way to turn. I'm a bit of a hopeless case. Jac, I've treated you badly and I couldn't be more sorry...I need you. Now more than ever..."**

They were both completely soaked through now, yet Jac, shivering violently, didn't move from her spot; Joseph's declaration was only acknowledged by the sadness that plagued her facial features, that flooded into her eyes. Then, as if on cue, they both took a step towards each other, and then another, until Joseph took the initiative and grabbed Jac's arms, pulling her possessively into a tight embrace. A sense of desperation overwhelmed them both, and, with Jac flinging her arms around his neck, and Joseph combing his fingers through her sodden locks, they kissed passionately. _Fervently._ They were whole again. In those few minutes, everything, and everybody, paled into insignificance; the rain was plummeting harder and faster but Jac Naylor and Joseph Byrne were oblivious even to nature.

After a while, Jac pulled away and stared meaningfully into her lover's eyes.

**"Well, you're _my_ hopeless case"**, she whispered sincerely.

**"And you're my feisty bitch..."** A small smile broke across Joseph's face. **"I think we're compatible, don't you?".**

Jac responded with a mock withering look, pretending to be hurt by his comments, but then the corners of her mouth twitched into a small smile, her eyes glittering playfully. The Naylor that he knew and loved was back.

**"And I'm your feisty bitch"**, Jac repeated, more as an afterthought than anything else.

**"I have to go now, though. I still have my son to think about"**. A look of disappointment flit across Jac's face, only slightly; this was not what she wanted to hear at all. Yet, holding her arms affectionately, Joseph tilted forwards and whispered something in her ear. Then, after kissing her tenderly on the cheek, got into his car and slowly drove away.

It was now the early hours of the morning. Jac stood there for a while, gazing meditatively into the eerie blackness of the night, however she eventually turned around and made her way back, her pathway illuminated only by the hospital lights.

Sacha Levy was standing there in the entrance, waiting. Concerned by his colleague's rash behaviour earlier, he wanted to know if she was okay; he wasn't used to seeing her in such an emotional mess.

**"Jac! Are you okay?"**

**"Mhmm. What are you doing here?"** Her eyebrows rose questioningly. _Jac Naylor style._

**"Just checking to see if you wanted that Levy squeeze"**, he grinned cheekily, sensing her good humour.

**"Shut your face Levy, and go back to work!"** Jac Naylor replied light-heartedly, walking inside. **"I mean it, your boss has spoken..."** The corners of her mouth twitched once again, revealing her dimples. In those few seconds, everything that she had said to him in the staffroom was mutually forgotten, an understanding reached. _She had a friend._

**"And what did Joseph have to say...?"**, Sacha called after her.

A pause.

**"Oh...nothing. _Nothing of importance_".**

If she was facing him, Sacha Levy would have noticed the brief twinkle in her eyes, but she was already gone.

Jac stood and waited for the lift doors to open, pondering over only one thing.

How _on earth_ was she going to deal with bloody Henrik?

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

_"I'll come back for you, Jac. I love you"_


End file.
